Stornoway

Arrival in Stornoway, the only town of any note in the Western Isles, is a shock after the wide open spaces and relatively quiet roads of the Uists and Harris. Here are trees, pavements, streetlights, suburbs, even a rush hour. After a week of wild or semi-wild camping, the cyclist feels particularly out of place in the streets of Stornoway.

The first time I visited Stornoway, I didn't like it much and couldn't wait to leave. This time round was better, and we strolled around the harbour, with the lush, rhodedendron-choked Lews Castle estate and handsome white-painted harbourside houses opposite, looking in vain for seals that we were sure would be bobbing about just offshore.

Stornoway Harbour:


We also visited family graves in a cemetery just outside Stornoway. It is impossible in Lewis not to be struck by the number of headstones in graveyards commemorating people who drowned at sea.